A Deal With the Devil
by The-Moon-Brained-Sister
Summary: Movieverse, based off of the movie Hook. Hook makes a deal with Peter: win and Peter goes free, lose and Peter gives Hook his daughter. Twenty years have passed and it's time to pay up. What's a girl to do? Hook/OC It's not as bad as it sounds, really.
1. You Belong to Me

**(Disclaimer: I do not own anything from Peter Pan, Hook, or anything else affiliated with J.M. Barrie, though I wish I did. Enjoy the fic!)

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You know how you can sometimes wake up one morning and think the dream you had the night before was real? Like if you dream that you already went through Friday and wake up thinking it's the weekend, but then you realize it's still Friday and you have to go through the day again? Yeah, that kind of dream. Well, I was having a hell of a realistic dream the night before my twenty-fifth birthday.

It started with me falling asleep listening to the song Snow White Queen by Evanescence. You know, the one with that one line that says: 'you belong to me, my snow white queen'? Yeah, well, it must've hit some nerve or something, 'cause the next thing I know I'm opening my eyes and sitting on a cloud, looking down at a ship floating in the water below me. Now, I know I'm dreaming at this point, because how else could I be flying? Or rather, floating, since I'm just hanging in one place. I try to fly down closer to the ship, 'cause you know, it's my dream and all, but for some reason I can't move. Strangely enough, though, my dream self doesn't feel at all worried. I can remember thinking in my dream, 'oh, well. I guess I'm staying here. Whatever.' It was like I didn't even care what happened.

Now, if I was awake and lucid when this was happening I would have panicked, because I'm extremely claustrophobic. That's the fear of small spaces, for those of you who don't know. I can't stand anything that restricts my movement, so even sleeping bags are usually a no-no. Irrational fears aside, however, there was something really weird going on down on the deck of that pirate ship.

Beside the mast, looking as though he'd just been dragged through hell and back, was my dad, though he looked about twenty years younger than he was back in the real world. He was standing very still, surrounded on all sides by very big, very scary men with swords who looked like they'd fought through hell and won. They were kinda making this growling noise deep in their throats, almost as if they wanted to leap on my dad and tear him to shreds. Don't ask me how I could hear them from where I was, 'cause I honestly don't know.

Above the deck, hanging from one end of the yardarm, is a huge net, and even my dream self is shocked when I see myself and my older brother, also both about twenty years younger, sitting in it crying. Now, this was an even bigger shock to me because my older brother had died seven years ago in a random shooting, in my senior year of high school. He was found on the side of the street two hours after the approximate time of death by a police officer patrolling the area.

_The police at the station said that it was the strangest case they'd ever seen, 'cause the bullet that killed my brother supposedly came from a gun that had stopped being made two-hundred years ago. They couldn't figure out how anyone could have gotten their hands on one, and even if they could have, no one alive could have gotten it working again._

_My dad, who was the most broken up about it, didn't even take it any further. I was shocked when he just nodded and said 'okay' when the police said that there was nothing they could do to find my brother's killer and that we'd be better off worrying about the funeral than the case. I tried to reason with my father, but he just got this look in his eye and told me to drop it, saying that we had to listen to what the police said._

_That was when I decided to move out of the house. I packed my bag that night and left, yelling that I wasn't going to stay in the house with a man who didn't care whether his son's killers were ever found. Before I closed the door, though, I turned and apologized to my mother, saying that I was sorry to put her through this but I couldn't stay any longer. Then I got in the car my parents had bought me for my eighteenth birthday, a beat-up but still useable Chevy, and drove off._

_I found myself an apartment a mile from my house, and managed to get enough money to stay there until I was done with high school. Fortunately I had already been offered a scholarship to a liberal arts college, so I took it. At this point I had gotten over my fit of anger towards my father and could see his reasoning, so I called him up to apologize and tell him where I was going._

_Right before I picked up the phone, it rang. I froze, and then picked up the receiver, seeing my dad's cell phone number on the caller ID as I brought it to my ear. For some reason my heart was beating faster than it should have been, almost as if I knew what had happened before my father even said anything._

_His voice was choked up when I answered and I could tell he'd been crying, so the first thing I said to him was, "what happened?" He let out a heavy, shuddering sigh, and said in the most heart-wrenchingly pain-filled voice I'd ever heard him use, "Your mother died less than an hour ago. She had a heart attack and the medics couldn't do anything for her."_

_For one minute I thought my heart had stopped as well. I clutched the cord as though I could use it to drag my mother back to me, from wherever she had disappeared to. When I could breathe again, I said, "Where is she now?"_

_My father hesitated, and then said, "We're both at the city hospital." He paused, and then launched into speech anxiously. "I'm so sorry I didn't call you, sweetheart. It was just that it all happened so fast that I couldn't reach a phone, and I was there by your mother the whole time, and… and… oh, I'm so sorry. I know you would have wanted to see her before she went."_

_I felt tears welling up in my eyes as well, and I shook my head, belatedly remembering that we were using a phone and therefore my dad couldn't see any motions I might have made. "No, dad," I said. "I understand. It's my fault anyway, for not being there these last few months. Can you forgive me?" My dad paused, and when he finally spoke his voice sounded more choked up than it had a moment ago._

_"Of course, sweetie. I already have. Come down to the hospital as soon as you can, and we'll talk more there. I love you." I whispered goodbye to him and hung up the phone, finally breaking down into tears._

_The rest of the next seven years passed in a blur of sadness, study, and finally graduation from my liberal arts college with high honors and a degree in English literature and science, though all of my accomplishments were tainted by the knowledge that my mom would never know how well I had done. After graduation I moved in with my dad, and had been staying there for the past three months before my twenty-fifth birthday._

Sitting on my cloud reminiscing, I of course missed what happened next in my dream, but when I finally remembered to look down at the ship there was a man standing at the top of a flight of stairs leading down to the main deck. He had black, curly hair that came to his shoulders and piercing blue eyes that didn't miss a thing. I had the feeling that the man even knew I was there in the sky, and I just wasn't important enough to be bothered with. A breeze swirled around the ship, and the man's bright red coat swept around behind him, allowing me a quick peek at his clothes.

He had on a white shirt with wide, flowing sleeves, and over it was a vest in the same blood red as his coat, with gold thread around the hem and breast pocket. The legs of his fawn-colored pants were tucked into a pair of calf high black boots with small silver buckles on the toes. Hanging from his belt was a sword similar to the ones the rest of the men were holding, and on a shoulder strap there hung a pistol, with a silver barrel and a dark brown wooden handle with a hint of red in the grain. Again, don't ask me how I knew this from so far away, 'cause I wouldn't be able to explain.

The wind died down again, and the man in red stepped down the stairs onto the deck. A small, round man was running along behind him, panting, and his eyes seemed somehow kind behind the small spectacles perched on his nose. The man in red stopped in front of my father and sneered.

"This is Peter Pan?" He asked contemptuously. I snickered quietly to myself. Obviously this guy had confused my dad's name with the famous flying boy's like everyone else had. 'My dad's name is Peter Pein, not Peter Pan, idiot,' I thought to myself. 'Peter Pan doesn't exist.'

The man in red sniffed, turning his back on my father. He closed his eyes and sighed, letting his shoulders slump dejectedly. "I knew bringing your children here would draw you to me, but I had no idea you had forgotten Neverland. Now I'll never get my final revenge on Peter Pan, what I have wanted these many years." My father stood up straight at this, glaring daggers at the man before him. "You took my children?"

The man smiled wickedly, knowing that my father had risen to the bait, and turned around again. "Of course! I even left a note on the nursery door. Signed and all." The man paused a moment, and then whipped out his left hand from where it had been residing in his coat pocket. He laid it over his heart and made a mocking bow. "Captain James Hook at your service."

My eyes widened, 'cause when he had taken his hand out of his pocket I saw that it wasn't really a hand. It was a hook, dagger sharp and glinting in the sun wickedly. I saw my father pale at the sight of the weapon, and he stumbled backwards until he was leaning against the mast. "You can't be! Hook doesn't exist!"

Captain Hook threw back his head and laughed. "Doesn't exist!? Well then, I suppose I must not really be here, correct? And if I'm not really here it stands to reason that if I slit the two children's throats they wouldn't really die, is that right?"

My father simply stood there, paralyzed, but when Hook made the motion telling the men to kill me and my brother he shouted, "No!"

Hook looked at him in mocking surprise. "So you realize I'm real now, do you? Well, now that you've realized the extent of the danger you're in, I'm going to let you all go free." My father blinked, stunned, and I could feel the same look of shock on my face as well.

Hook grins. "Oh, I almost forgot. There is a catch." My father's fists tighten.

"What's the catch?" He asks through gritted teeth. Hook makes a wide sweeping motion in the direction of the net and said, "If you can climb up and touch your children's hands, I'll let you all go free. If you fail…" He smirked. "I still free you all, but I choose one child to return to me in twenty years. I can always use more servants. I honestly don't care which, but if I had to choose…" He looked up at the net, his eyes drifting from my brother's terrified face to mine, and he frowned at the realization that there was no sign of fear on my face.

"Why aren't you afraid, girl?" Hook asked me angrily, and somehow I knew what the younger me was going to say before she said it.

"Because you're not scary." The younger me said, and Hook burst out laughing.

"That's the kind of attitude I like in a girl," he said, still laughing. "You have courage, lass, and I could use someone with that kind of courage. Besides… everyone knows what good maids women make." He turned back to my father, who was shaking with rage. "So, Pan. If you lose you send your daughter back to me in twenty years, but if you win you all go free. How's that for a deal?"

My father glared at him, but finally sighed. "It's a deal." He reached out his hand, and Hook held out his. They clasped hands briefly, both letting go as soon as possible. Then my father turned to the mast and looked up at the net, gulping.

My heart pounded as I remembered that my father used to have a paralyzing fear of heights when I was younger. I remember that he couldn't even look out of the window at the building where he worked, where his office was located on the twentieth floor. Now he had to climb a twenty foot distance and reach out a hand into empty air in order to save his children. He would never be able to do it.

With his jaw set in a firm line, however, he began to climb, gripping the sides of the mast tightly and pulling himself up the smooth wood inch by inch. The pirates all jeered at him, laughing and making loud bets concerning how soon he would fall. Finally, though, he reached the yardarm and climbed onto it, wrapping his arms around the circumference of the log and scooting forward on his stomach.

With me silently cheering him on, my dad eventually reached my brother and I. He stretched out a hand timidly, sweat beading on his brow with the strain. My brother's hand and mine both poked through the holes in the net, and we strained to reach him, but we were short by barely two inches. Us kids reached farther, but my dad couldn't go farther because of his fear. Eventually the strain of holding on to the yardarm and dangling over the gently rocking deck grew too much for my dad, and he pulled his hand back.

Hook laughed wickedly. "I knew you couldn't do it! Imagine, men! The famous Peter Pan, afraid of heights!" The rest of the crew erupted into gales of laughter, and I lowered my head as my father was pulled from the yardarm by one of the pirates. Hook stood over him, leering down at his prone figure, but as I sat in the sky staring at him, all I could think was how handsome he was. He was easily six-foot five and towered over all of the other pirates by at least half a foot, and his bright blue eyes were set in a strong, firm face, with surprisingly soft-looking lips. His teeth, as I had noticed earlier, were white and straight, almost unheard of in the times when pirates roamed the seas, and when he smiled I got a little shiver up my spine that had nothing to do with fear.

Shaking myself out of my little ogle-fest, I watched as Hook had my father, my brother, and me led down the gangplank and to shore, where a small fluttering light flitted around us, sprinkling golden sparkles down on top of us. Hook grinned wickedly at my father, and then at the younger me, who was clutching my father's hand. "Don't forget, Pan. The girl comes back to me in twenty years."

My father glowered at Hook. "And what will happen if I refuse?" Hook glared down at him harshly, and even up in the sky I flinched as though it was me he was looking at like he wanted to kill them.

"Then I'll come and kill your family. Your wife and son, at least, and then take the girl myself. So either you do what I say and bring the girl to me of your own free will, or I take her from you and kill everyone else that's precious to you." He grinned menacingly. "How's that sound?"

My father looked up at him fearfully, knowing he meant every word. "But how will I get her here? I don't know how to fly, and I'm not going to teach Maggie!" Looking puzzled, Hook stroked the rough stubble on his chin thoughtfully, and another shiver goes through me at the sight of his long, slender fingers running across his jaw, where mine suddenly wanted to rest.

Finally his face cleared, and he grinned, never a good sign, from what I had seen. "I'll come get her myself, then." My father looked at Hook in shock.

"Are you crazy?!" He shouted, looking at Hook as if he were insane. Hook smiled back at him calmly.

"No, I don't think so. I prefer to think of myself as sane, at least most of the time." He smiled at my dad. "If I get your daughter myself, there's less chance of you… forgetting, as I assume you were planning on doing. And you just admitted that there's no other way she could return to Neverland, so it looks like this is your only option."

Peter sighed resignedly. "Alright. But if you harm one hair on her head..." Hook's smile widened.

"That's not your decision to make, is it Peter? Now that she belongs to me, I could kill her if I wished to, and you could do nothing to stop me. So why don't you run home to your wife already. I'm, sure she misses you terribly." He turned to face my younger self. "I'll see you again soon, my dear Maggie. Just wait."

As my father lifted off of the ground with my brother and I in tow, and with Tinkerbell guiding him, the dream started to fade. Just before it had disappeared completely, however, I looked down at the ship to see Hook staring at me, smiling. As that familiar shiver runs down my spine, I can almost hear the notes of a song drifting into the air. 'You belong to me, my snow white queen...'

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**(Okay folks, this is a test chapter. For those of you who haven't realized it or haven't seen the movie, this fanfic is based on the movie Hook with Robin Williams. I didn't like how that movie turned out, so I changed it a little. This fanfic is still going under Peter Pan, though, 'cuz that's kinda what it is. Sorry it's taking so long for me to get the next chapter of JCJR out, but I've kinda hit another roadblock. Sorry! R&R peoples!)**


	2. Happy Birthday

I sit up in bed in a cold sweat, and with an unusual tightness in my lower stomach that has nothing to do with discomfort. In fact, it feels a lot like what I felt in that dream I had...

I must be going crazy, thinking that that dream was anything but that; a dream. But for some reason I can't get it to just leave me alone.

I think that the only reason that the dream won't just float away like all of the others I've had is because of that man. The captain. Hook. Just the way he stood on the deck, all strong and sure, like nothing in the world could hurt him.

If I had to describe him, the first word I would come up with would probably be handsome (duh), but the next word would most likely be vain. I always thought that I couldn't stand vain people, having put up with enough of them in high school, but not so with that man. For some strange reason that somehow eludes me at the moment, his vanity gives him a sort of security that no one else I've known has had. It's almost like he knows he's the best and doesn't care if everyone else knows as well.

Still, I can't help but wonder why I was dreaming of him in the first place. I'm not a little kid who has nightmares about scary pirates anymore, and it didn't feel like a nightmare anyway. And it's not like I've had anything to prompt me to dream about Peter Pan or Hook. My father, for some weird reason that I can't contemplate, refuses to keep any copy of Peter Pan in the house, so I haven't read the story in years. The only exposure to that particular story has been from all of the movies that have come out about it. I always thought that Jason Isaacs played Hook the best in the 2001 version, but now that I think about it, in my dream Hook's face didn't look at all like any actors I've ever seen.

Actually, I hadn't seen his face before in my life before I had that dream about him. No, wait, that's not quite true either. While I was dreaming I felt like all of it had happened before, and I could even tell what people were going to say before they said it. That's not normal, however I look at it.

Suddenly I hear my dad yell cheerfully up from downstairs, "Get out of bed, honey! It's your birthday, remember?! I'm making your favorite breakfast, and if you don't get down here it'll be cold!"

How could I have forgotten? I turn twenty-five today, and every year on my birthday my dad makes me eggs, bacon, toast, and cinnamon rolls to celebrate. Rolling out of bed, I yell back groggily, "Coming dad! Just gotta shower, 'kay?" I hear my dad make a noise of exasperation from the kitchen, where there are sounds of sizzling and popping. No doubt it's the bacon, already on the stove cooking.

Walking into the hallway, I stretch my arms over my head and yawn. I can feel my joints cracking as I walk into the bathroom, and to wake myself up I splash my face with freezing cold water.

Gasping and spluttering, but wide awake, I quickly strip and reach into the shower to turn on the water. While I wait for it to heat up, I cross the tiled floor and lean against the window frame, marveling at the bright, clear blue sky. Suddenly I get the strange feeling that someone can _see_ me up here, so I quickly pull back from the window with a small shiver and walk back to the shower to feel the water temperature.

I stick my hand into the spray, but pull it back quickly with a yelp, waving it back and forth. "Geez that's hot!" I hop around in pain for a few more seconds, and then turn down the water temperature a little and step into the shower.

Sighing with relief at the feel of the warm water on my back, I lean against the wall of the shower and just let the water trickle through my hair and down across my shoulders as I slowly push the dream from my mind. No use worrying about it now, right? If it means anything, then I'll deal with that only when I have to.

It was probably nothing, anyway. With the new resolve to keep myself from thinking about the dream or that man, Hook, who keeps popping into my thoughts at the worst moments, I lather my hair with soap from the bright pink bottle beside me.

When I'm done washing my hair I step daintily out of the shower and grab the towel hanging on the wall in front of me, wrapping it around my chest and tucking in one of the corners to keep it securely in place. With my wet hair still hanging across my shoulders, I walk into my room and open my closet doors.

Dropping the towel on the floor at my feet, I quickly pull out a blue-gray tank top. I yank it over my head and follow it with my favorite black sweatshirt, and then pull on a pair of blue jeans and walk downstairs.

When I get to the bottom of the stairs a golden blur leaps at me, hitting my chest and licking my face happily. "All right, Anna, all right!" I laugh, pushing my two-year-old golden retriever back to the floor, where she leaps around happily at my feet. Suddenly my dad pokes his head around the kitchen doorway.

"So, sleeping beauty, have you decided to grace us with your presence?" He asks jokingly. I smile and follow him back into the kitchen, where there is a full buffet style breakfast sitting on the table in front of me.

I look at it in surprise. "Wow, dad. Are you sure that table can hold all of that food?" My dad laughs and presses a kiss to my cheek.

"I just wanted to make this day even more special for you," my dad says, and I can almost hear a hint of sadness in his voice. I look up at him, puzzled by his attitude, but instead of asking about it I stuff a mouthful of pancakes into my mouth with gusto, taking a gulp of milk and swallowing as my dad bursts out laughing.

"You're supposed to eat my food, not inhale it!" He laughs, and as I glare at him and stubbornly shove another heaping forkful of food into my mouth the doorbell rings. I swallow, my eyes watering as I force the dry glob of pancakes down my throat, and then turn to my dad.

"Who's that, Dad? Are you expecting someone?" My father shakes his head halfway and then freezes, a look of fear falling over his face like a shutter as he turns to the front hallway.

He turns to face me. "Stay here. I'm going to see who it is," he says to me, but his voice makes it perfectly clear that he already knows exactly who's behind that door. I stand up out of my chair at his terror-stricken tone.

"Dad, if there's something wrong you can tell me," I say, walking over to him and touching his arm lightly. He twitches away from me with a shiver and turns his face away, and I look at him in shock. "Who is it, Dad?" He doesn't answer me, instead beginning to head into the hallway.

"Why won't you look at me!?" I shout, at the same time that the doorbell rings again. My father finally turns to meet my eyes, and this time it's my turn to flinch at the look of pain on his face. More quietly I ask, "Will you let me come with you to see them at least?"

My father grips my shoulders, staring into my eyes intensely. "You are to go up to your room and pack a bag of clothes, but only the necessities. Use the fire escape outside your window to get to the street and run away from here as fast as you can. I've kept you from him for twenty years, and I'll be damned if he's going to get you now."

The doorbell rings again, followed by a loud thud that sounds like someone throwing themselves at the door. My father pushes me towards the stairs and runs into the hall doorway, then turns to look at me, still standing where he had left me. He points up the stairway and yells, "Go!", before turning again and rushing into the hallway and out of sight.

Suddenly there's a ringing crash as the old wooden door splinters, and I jump at the sound, springing into action. Instead of going up to my room, however, I run into the hallway where the sounds of cracking wood can still be heard.

Turning the corner of the doorway at a sprint, I skid to stop at the scene that greets my eyes. A chunk of the doorway approximately two feet square has been literally torn out of the door, and through the gaping hole I can see a man continuing to make the space wider. I must have made some sort of noise or exclamation, because the man pauses momentarily in his assault on the door and looks up to meet my gaze.

My eyes widen in total, paralyzing fear, and my mouth gapes open at the sight of the face I had so recently considered to be a figment of my imagination. Captain Hook lifts his hook to his flawless face and brushes a strand of hair out of his bright blue eyes. "Hello, Maggie," he says with a smile. "It's been far too long."

I stumble backwards at the sound of his voice, which is just as warm and rich as it had been in my dream, and cover my mouth with one shaking hand. When I feel my back hit the wall I slump to the floor, my legs unable to hold my weight any longer. Hook chuckles at my obvious weakness, and reaches inside the house with his good hand to grab the handle and turn, unlocking the door.

Suddenly my father, who had been standing paralyzed at the sight of his old nemesis up until this moment, runs over to Hook's face and lashes out with his fist, catching him on the upper cheekbone. Roaring in pain, Hook stumbles backwards, away from the door, and I jolt back into wakefulness. With a frightened gasp I leap to feet, turning around and fleeing up the stairs to my room.

Hook howls a "No!" as I pound up the staircase and through my bedroom door, but I ignore it and instead lift the window as high as it can go and poke my head out. With a scream I lean back and slam the window, shutting out the leering face of a vicious-looking pirate who had been standing right outside my window. Quickly I reach up and lock it, hoping that will delay him for a moment, and stumble backwards to sit on my bed.

Just then the pirate smashes the glass, eliciting another scream from me, but as I watch in paralyzing fear I realize that he can't fit his body through the window. Almost laughing in relief, I get up off of my bed and walk to the door, determined to go back downstairs and help my dad.

Before I even open the door, however, I notice the strange silence, broken only by the harsh panting of the man outside my window trying to figure out how to open the window from the outside. With a sick feeling of unease growing in the pit of my stomach, I reach out to grip the door handle. Slowly I pull it open, and when I see the empty hallway I let out a sigh of relief.

_'Thank God,'_ I think to myself, walking out into the hallway. _'For a minute I thought Captain Hook would be standing right-' _I freeze, my heart pounding, at the sight of Hook stepping off of the stairs and into the hall with a malicious smile on his face.

I scream and spin on my heel, sprinting back to my room in blind panic. I've almost reached the doorway, however, when a strong arm whips out of nowhere and grabs a fistful of my hair, jerking me backwards. I let out a yelp of pain, a tear trickling down my face as Hook walks up beside me, never letting go of my hair.

He leans his face down beside mine and looks at me, turning my head as well so that I'm facing him. Our noses are mere inches apart, and I can smell his breath on my face as his smile widens. "You grew up to be beautiful, my dear girl. I never would have expected it from a child of Pan's, but there you have it." His eyes flash dangerously, and I let out another whimper as he moves his face closer. "It would be a shame to waste such a pretty thing for dish work. Maybe you're better suited for... other purposes?" He chuckles at his own little joke, and I thrash frantically back and forth trying to get free.

"No! No, no, no, no! Let me go, you bastard!" Immediately Hook's metal appendage is at my throat, the tip pressing against my skin and ending my cries. He leans in closer still and glares at me.

"I don't care how pretty you are, _girl_, no one speaks to me like that. Do it again and I'll see you flogged." With a quick nod I show my compliance, but when he turns to lead me away I reach up over my head for the hand keeping me captive and dig one of my nails between the veins in his wrist, which I know from experience is a very painful experience.

Hook lets out a bellow of pain and lets go, and I dart around him and down the stairs in an attempt to reach the street. I reach the landing below the staircase, and I can hear Hook thundering after me. I almost manage two feet before I'm hit from behind by what feels like a ton of bricks, and I'm sent falling to the floor with Hook on top of me, panting.

He stares down at me with unbridled fury, and at that moment I honestly believe I'm going to die. So I lift my hands and begin to pray, even though I've been atheist for five years, hoping that when Hook kills me it'll at least be fast.

But before I even reach the _Amen_ part, Hook growls, "I'm not going to kill you, girl, so you can stop praying." I look up at him in shock, letting my hands fall to my sides. Hook grins maliciously. "No, there are other methods of punishment far worse." With this he leans forward and presses his lips to mine.

I flinch, and then place my hands on his chest to try to push him off, but he's more than twice my weight and at least five inches taller than me, (which is hard to be, seeing as I'm 5' 10".) His tongue runs over my lips and forces them apart, and my body goes limp with the rush of emotions that flood my body at his kiss. With a final sweep of his tongue in my mouth Hook leans back, looking at me appraisingly.

"Good, but you could have been a little more actively involved," he says with a smirk, and I glare at him.

"Sorry, I'll try harder next time," I grit out, and then realize belatedly what that sounded like. "I mean, there won't be a next time! Stay away from me!" Hook chuckles, and presses his face into the hollow of my neck, eliciting a shiver from me that runs the length of my spine.

"Oh, there _will_ be a next time, and there will be many times after that, but which will certainly not be as tame as _that_." I shudder at the implications of his words, and also at the feeling of his lips brushing lightly against my skin. Finally Hook stands up, lifting me along with him and throwing me over his shoulder.

He turns to face the stairs and says to me, "If you try any more escapes, I swear to God I'll take you on this damned floor." Immediately I cease running through scenarios in my head, his threat hanging in the air ominously.

With exaggerated patience Hook climbs the stairs, and I finally work up the courage to ask, "What did you do to my father?" Hook snorts.

"That piece of trash? I tied him up downstairs and left him for someone else to deal with. Killing him would have been a waste of my time, and I have no need for slaves on my ship." I glare at the small of his back, which is all I can see from where I'm hanging.

"Well then why do you have me?" Hook chuckles.

"You're not a slave, my dear." He steps into my bedroom. W_hen had we gotten to the top of the stairs?_ "You're either a servant or a whore." I feel his laugh rumble through me. "Either way, it's not much better."

With my heart sinking like a stone, I hear him kick the window frame with one booted foot, cracking the wood and sending the entire frame tumbling down the fire escape. Stepping through the empty frame, Hook steps onto the metal landing and lets out a piercing whistle.

I crane my neck to see what's happening, and gasp in shock at the sight of a huge pirate ship sinking out of the clouds. Hook climbs to the very top level of the fire escape, and when the ship is low enough, jumps onto the deck lightly. He dumps me unceremoniously on my rear, and I look up warily.

Around me are at least thirty-five burly men between thirty and forty years old, and all of them are looking at me as though I'm a buffet meal and they haven't eaten in months.

With a groan I think, _'I'm in deep shit.'_


	3. Getting Settled

Several of the crew members chuckle maliciously, and I can almost feel their gazes running up and down my body. Instinctively I curl up with my knees together, sitting on the deck and watching the men warily. Suddenly Hook steps up beside me and yanks my head back by my hair, eliciting a whimper of pain from me. He leans his face next to mine and grins, bringing his hook around to caress my cheek.

"What do you say, men? Was this prize worth the trouble?" The men all let out a roar of agreement, and Hook chuckles quietly. "Fools," he whispers. "They'll never have you, my dear. If it keeps them placated, however, I will allow them to admire you all they want." With this he stands, yanking me up with him, and looks around, searching for someone.

"Smee!" he shouts angrily, and frantic steps are heard as a small, round man comes barreling down the companionway leading down from the fo'c'sle**1**. He hurries over to Hook, skidding to a stop and snapping into a sloppy salute, his chest heaving from the mad dash down the companionway**2**.

"Yes, Captain?" Smee asks when he's gotten his breath back. Hook sighs wearily, and then without warning pushes me towards the small man, sending me stumbling forward.

"Take the girl to my cabin and lock her there," Hook says to Smee, and I feel the small man grab my upper arm in a surprisingly strong grip, for all that he barely reaches my shoulder. "No one other than myself is to speak to her until we are in Neverland once more." He turns and sends me a glare that almost has me cowering against the gunwale**3**. "I warn you not to try to escape, _Miss_ Pan. I have no qualms whatsoever about flaying your hide with the Cat**4** if proper respect of me is not learned."

I bite my tongue on a retort, knowing he means what he says, and feel myself tugged towards the stern of the ship. Behind me I hear Hook shouting orders to the crew, and feel the ship swing to port and begin moving forward at a steady clip, the sails snapping as they fill with wind.

I crane my head around to catch a glimpse of them when Smee pushes me ahead of him down a companionway at the stern of the ship, and I almost lose my footing until Smee reaches out to catch the back of my shirt to haul me back up. I turn to stare at him in surprise, and he looks back at me sorrowfully.

"I'm sorry I have to do this to ye lass, really I am, but it's the Captain's orders," he says, and I can hear a distinct Irish accent in his voice. I smile at the little man kindly while continuing to walk down into the bowels of the ship, and feel a momentary sense of relief that there's at least one person on this ship who isn't completely oblivious to my plight.

The relief doesn't last long, however. Eventually we reach a door, and Smee reaches around me to open it and pushes me inside. I find myself in a large and stately cabin, its entire rear wall made up of windows, with a large table and chairs in the middle of the floor. Before Smee closes the door he sends me one last regretful look from behind his round spectacles. "Sorry," he says again, and then closes the door and locks it.

I stand there staring at the door for a good two minutes before the grief hits me. It starts as a few tears slipping down my cheeks, and then those tears turn into hacking sobs that shake my entire figure. Shakily I walk over to an armchair sitting in the corner of the cabin and climb into it, pressing my face against the blood red fabric and staining it with tears. For at least ten minutes all I can do is sit there, curled up and sobbing, while the waves of sadness wash over me.

When the sobs finally die away I sit up with a sniffle, wiping the back of my hand across my eyes briskly in an effort to push back the grief still looming in my mind. I leap out of the chair, landing on the floor of the cabin with a thump, and take in my surroundings.

In the middle of the cabin is the table, big enough to seat at least ten people but with only two chairs at either end, and covering it are various maps and charts of differing sizes and shapes. Passing over those, I spot a tall display cabinet against one of the bulkheads**5**, and I peer inside eagerly.

My eyes widen in admiration at the sight of the multitudes of antique guns and swords, weapons that would be worth millions in my world, and also at the odd trinkets scattered amongst them. A silver locket with a golden clasp, a brass lamp, a miniature carving of a crocodile framed by a clock, and many other seemingly worthless odds and ends are strewn throughout the case. My fingers itch with longing and the thought of taking them out and holding them, learning where they had been and who they had belonged to, but when I try the handle I find to my disappointment that it's locked.

With a final sigh of longing in the direction of the case, I turn to the opposite bulkhead, the one with the windows, and let out a gasp of wonder at the view through the glass. I begin walking over to the windows, gazing in wonder out over a wide expanse of white clouds that look as soft as down, shot through with strips of pink and orange from the setting sun.

A long padded bench runs the length of the windows, and I eagerly climb up onto them and look out, when suddenly there's a break in the clouds and I can see the tiny cities and towns below, _way_ down on the ground. Quickly I shove myself backwards, landing on the floor with a thump as I try to calm my heart.

While my fear of heights isn't as bad as my father's, I still don't like being high up very much. Anything higher than the fire escape on my building is too high, in my opinion. Having lost all interest in looking outside, I instead turn to the bulkhead on the port side of the ship.

My jaw drops at the sight of a bookshelf that takes up the entire wall, aside from a small open area where a door stands ajar, and I glide over to it as if in a dream. When I reach the shelves I stop, running my fingers lovingly over the bindings of each of the books and crooning, "You beautiful, beautiful things, you. How could such wonderful books belong to such a horrible man?"

I pull one out at random and find that I've taken out Wuthering Heights, one of my favorite novels. Tucking the book under my arm I catch sight of the door to my left, smiling when I realize it's ajar. I walk over to it, peer into the room, and see a king-sized bed with fawn-colored sheets and a red comforter against one of the bulkheads with a dresser right beside it. An oil lamp sits on top of said dresser, casting a flickering light over the oddly windowless room.

Warily I step into what is obviously the captain's bedroom, my heart pounding in my chest as I sit on the edge of the bed. When the Captain doesn't immediately leap out of the shadows I relax, kicking off my sneakers and leaning against the headboard and at the same time pulling Wuthering Heights out from under my arm. Flipping the book open to the first page, I find myself pulled once again into the story I had read so many times, and I get so involved that I don't notice when my eyelids start to droop closed. I let out a yawn, sliding down the bed until my head rests on the pillows behind me. Without realizing it I close the book, turning over onto my side and closing my eyes, drifting off into sleep in a matter of minutes.

Hook steps lightly down the companionway to his cabin, grinning wickedly at the thought of the girl waiting for him there. He unlocks the door and then slips the key back into his pocket, stepping inside his cabin and closing the door behind him. Looking around the room he frowns, not seeing the damned girl anywhere.

"Where could she possibly have gone?" he growls, scanning the room until his eyes land on the open door leading to his bedroom. A sinister light enters his eyes, and he walks silently over to the door and peers inside. At the sight of the sleeping figure in his bed, Hook feels a tightness in his lower abdomen that slowly spreads, sending tendrils of warmth through his body.

Maggie shifts in her sleep, letting out a small sigh, and Hook groans as the feeling intensifies, now almost painful. His eyes never leaving Maggie's sleeping form, Hook steps into the room and closes the door, cutting off all light but the one lamp on the desk that continues to burn brightly.

Stepping over to the desk, Hook blows out the flame, plunging the room into darkness. Having lived in this room all his life, however, Hook manages to find his way to the other side of the bed without any trouble whatsoever. Chuckling wickedly at the shock the young girl will get when she wakes up, Hook pulls off his shirt and boots and slides onto the comforter without so much as making a sound.

He slowly inches closer to Maggie until he's lying right beside her. He reaches out his hook and runs it down her face, wondering if he should wake her and have some fun now, but decides against it. _'It'll be more fun in the morning when she wakes up to find me here,'_ he thinks with dark humor, and then removes his hook and reaches over Maggie to lay it on the bedside table.

Maggie, feeling the warmth of the person beside her even in her sleep, rolls towards Hook and drapes and arm over his chest, burying her face in his shoulder and sighing happily. Hook stiffens, feeling her body pressed flush to his, and then a soft laugh rumbles through his chest.

"Well, well, well," he whispers, leaning against the pillows and wrapping his own arms around Maggie. "It looks like this girl will be won over more easily than I thought." Letting out another chuckle at the thought of the morning, he closes his eyes and drifts off into sleep, a wicked smile still clinging to his lips.

* * *

**1 – forecastle : the raised part of the deck where the wheel is located**

**2 – companionway : any staircase on a ship**

**3 – gunwale : the railing that encircles the entire deck**

**4 – the Cat (O' Nine Tails) : a whip with nine "tails" used to punish sailors**

**5 – bulkheads – any wall or partition on a ship**


	4. Almost Freedom

**Disclaimer: I do not own Peter Pan or any other characters created by J.M. Barrie, and neither do I own any characters or plots from the movie ****Hook****, whose director's name escapes me at the moment. Sorry!**

_Opening my eyes, I find myself on the deck of the pirate ship wearing nothing but a cotton nightgown that I had never seen before in my life, and I groan inwardly. My eyes drift upwards to rest on the full moon in the sky, and my shoulders droop._

_"Not another dream," I moan, when suddenly I feel a strong male presence behind me. My heart sinking in my chest, I turn around with a gulp._

_Standing before me, like a dark angel in the moonlight, is Hook. He looks down at me with a leer, his teeth pale ghosts hovering in the darkness in a wicked semblance of a grin, and I let out a small shriek and spin around once more, diving into the first open hatch I see._

_When my eyes adjust to the new level of darkness I find myself in a long corridor, with no end in sight, and I start to run, hearing my own breathing in my ears painfully loud. Also, as a harsh pounding in my head, I hear Hook's footsteps thudding down the companionway behind me._

_I start to hear the faint notes of a song in my head, and unwillingly my mind dregs up the lyrics that go with them._

'_Wake up in a dream_

_Frozen fear_

_All your hands on me_

_I can't scream_

_I can't escape the twisted way you think of me_

_I feel you in my dreams and I don't sleep..._

_You belong to me_

_My snow white queen_

_There's nowhere to run,_

_So let's just get it over_

_Soon I know you'll see_

_You're just like me_

_Don't scream anymore my love,_

_Cause all I want is you.'_

_When the last haunting notes fade away I find myself at a dead end, with no doors anywhere. I turn around in terror to see Hook standing right in front of me, his grin replaced by a hungry, predatory look and his chest heaving from exertion._

_With astonishing speed only possible in a dream he pins me to the wall, his hook trapping my right wrist and his hand trapping my right. He leans in closer to me and retrieves his grin, his gaze boring into mine with an intensity that frightens and at the same time excites._

_He crowds me against the wall and I let out a whimper, and just as his lips are about to press against my own..._

I wake up in darkness with my legs tangled up in the comforter I had been sleeping on and something warm lying beside me and my heart starts pounding at the same time that my body stiffens.

_'What the hell?'_ I think, trying in vain to squirm away only to find that a strong pair of arms is holding me in place. Suddenly a silky smooth voice purrs from the darkness beside me, "Good morning, my dear. I thought you would never wake up."

I turn fearfully, dreading who I'm about to see, and find myself looking into Hook's bright blue eyes. A shriek rips itself from my lips, and I thrash frantically in an attempt to free myself. With a muttered curse Hook flips over and pins me beneath him, and I blush at the sight of his bare chest above me.

Wiggling upwards quickly I manage to get myself into a sitting position with my back against the headboard before Hook moves closer, placing his knees on either side of mine with his face barely an inch away from my nose. He exhales, sending a puff of warm air into my face and momentarily stunning me. Smiling, he braces himself against the headboard by leaning his forearms on the wood beside my head.

"Did you get a good night's sleep?" Hook asks, removing his left arm from the wall and running his one good hand along my side, eliciting a shiver from me as it moves up and down over my shirt. "I felt it would have been rude to wake you last night after such a trying day, so I graciously allowed you a few moments extra rest." He stares intently at me and I gulp. "I think an action as unselfish as that deserves a reward, don't you?"

I shake my head wildly, gasping out refusals, and Hook tuts at me. "Now, now, I've been more than gracious thus far, my dear, but my patience is wearing thin." With this he leans in towards me, causing me to shrink backwards against the headboard.

My mind going into full blown panic-mode, I reach out an arm and slap Hook across the face, leaving a bright red handprint that reaches from his temple to the corner of his mouth. It's only after Hook recovers from his shock and whips his head around to fix a look of absolute fury on me that I realize what a stupid thing I had just done.

I had just pissed off the one person that held power over whether I lived or died, and from the look on his face he wasn't going to simply forgive me anytime soon.

"Oh, shit." I mutter, cursing my temper and lack of self-control. Hook towers over me, his eyes gleaming red in the darkness, and I tear out from under him and out of the room as fast as I can. As soon as I find my way out of the bedroom I slam the door behind me, my chest heaving in terror and adrenaline.

From behind me I hear a growl, pure animal and filled with menace, and I bolt across the room and yank on the door, blinking in amazement when I find it open. I hear the bedroom door crash open and race up the companionway, hearing Hook roaring from behind me, "Maggie!"

I shiver in delight at the sound of my name coming from those perfect lips, followed by another shiver of fear at the anger in his voice. I burst onto the deck of the ship and squint in the bright sunlight, freezing at the sight of the entire crew turning to look directly at me.

I have a quick internal debate at whether to take my chances on the ship or in the water lapping against the hull, but another roar at my back makes the decision for me. With a quick mocking wave to the crew I dash to the gunwale, leaping over the railing and into the clear blue water.

As soon as I pierce the surface I let out a sigh, plunging deep into the surprisingly warm water and doing a few flips for fun.

_'Now this is more like it,'_ I think, kicking back to the surface while at the same time moving away from the ship. _'No rules, no worries, no handsome pirate captains trying to take advantage of you...'_ Having reached the surface, I start to kick towards the mainland while still enjoying the sun on my face and the angry shouts from the pirates back on the ship, none of them apparently being able to swim. I blush at the memory of what I had escaped from, but feel oddly regretful at the thought that I would never see Hook again.

_'You idiot!'_ I scold myself, kicking harder in an attempt to distract my brain. _'You are not supposed to fall in love with the man who kidnaps you and locks you up for hours! Only idiots do that!'_

Suddenly from behind me I hear a large splash, and I realize that for the past minute I had simply been lying on my back staring up at the sky. Treading water, I look back towards the ship and gasp, seeing a jollyboat being lowered into the water with at least six men as oarsmen and the Captain himself standing in the bow urging them on.

I quickly flip onto my stomach and start stroking, thanking my swim coach back home for working me so hard during all of those after-school practices. I hear, with some satisfaction, one of the oarsmen say, "she swims like a bloody fish! How're we s'posed to catch 'er?"

My bubble of confidence popped at the sound of Hook's voice ringing over the water. "She'll tire, boys. Just pull hard and we'll catch her! Mark my words!" I look back at the boat and realize with no small amount of dismay that he's right. They are catching up to me!

I lay on the speed then, pulling as hard as I can and kicking for all I'm worth. Still I can hear the men getting closer to me, their grunts like death knells in my ears. I can see the shore, not forty feet from me, but I realize that even if I went twice as fast as I'm going now I still wouldn't beat them there.

Still I try, stroking and stroking until my arms feel like wet noodles, but when I feel a hand grab the back of my shirt I give up, panting, knowing that it's over. I'm dragged onboard the jollyboat feeling like a wet cat, sodden and disheveled at the Captain's feet. He smiles down at me with cold, cold eyes, the shadow mark of my handprint still on his face.

"That was a very stupid thing you just did, Maggie." Again I shiver when he says my name, but Hook simply takes it as a shiver of cold and goes on. "No one ever leaves my ship unless I say so, and I don't recall ever giving you permission." Suddenly he turns to glare at the crew.

"What are you looking at? Row back to the ship before I keelhaul1 the lot of you!" Hook turns back to me, and I freeze in place. "Five lashes should teach you your place, girl. And maybe put some sense in your skull."

1 – a particularly unpleasant form of punishment on the open sea in which the person has a rope tied around their waist and is thrown over the bow of the ship, causing them to be ground against the hull before they are pulled up at the stern. Most people subjected to this punishment do not survive.


	5. Conversations and Revalations

**Author's Note: Sorry this chapter's so short after so long without me posting, but it felt like a good place to stop at the time. Enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: Still don't own any characters... Captain Hook... sob**

At his words the cold wind, which had moments before seemed like a gentle breeze, chills me to the bone and a terror unlike any I've ever known steals over me. I lunge towards Hook, not with the intention of knocking him down, but simply to grab hold of his jacket and hang there, begging, "Please no! Not that! I'll do anything, just don't whip me, please!" I don't remember why the idea of a whip terrifies me, but all I know is that every time I think of those blood-encrusted tails slicing through the air like knives toward my bare back a cold, ingrained fear grips my mind in icy claws and refuses to let me go.

I continue pleading and wailing until Hook removes my fingers from his lapels and drops me to the bottom of the boat, ordering one of the crewmen to stop rowing and gag me. The man does so by simply stuffing a dirty wadded up hand-kerchief into my mouth, and I nearly choke on the greasy, oily rag as tears spill down my cheeks. Hook, smoothing out his coat with casual ease, looks down at me huddled on the floor with a calculating gaze.

"We will discuss the matter further when we reach the ship, Miss Pan," He says smugly, and this time when I lunge for him it's with anger, and the full intent of strangling him as soon as my hands get around his neck. How dare he mock me? Unfortunately the same man who had gagged me leaps forward and pins my arms behind my back, tying them together quickly with a coiled line that had been lying on the deck.

For the rest of the trip I simply glare at Hook, silently fuming as I'm lifted onto the deck of the Jolly Roger and thrown in a heap by two men who had been rowing the jollyboat. Hook, of course, climbs up onboard himself and steps onto the deck with all the grace of a prowling jungle cat, and stares down at me with a cat's haughty pride when it knows its prey's end is near.

"Did I hear you say you will do _anything_ if I choose to spare you a whipping, my dear?" He leans against the gunwale carelessly after removing my gag, stretching his legs out in front of him until his left boot is not even two feet from me. "When you say _anything_, what exactly do you mean?"

As his intentions slowly sink in I start shaking in rage, my lips pulling back over my teeth in a feral snarl. However, no matter how much I might hate it, Hook has me trapped, so, trying to keep my voice under control, I say, "I mean absolutely anything."

Though I force as much malice and rage into my tone as is physically possible, I still feel the sharp tang of defeat as Hook's expression of calm nonchalance morphs into one of gleeful pride, with the barest hint of desire that reveals what is to be my fate on this ship.

_'Oh, God why? Why me?'_ I wail silently as Hook slowly unfolds himself from his relaxed position and walks over to me. Still with a smug grin on his face, he reaches out and cradles my chin in his hand, slowly lifting my head until I'm looking up into the pools of blue that are his eyes. He continues to lift his hand higher until I'm forced to stand or have my neck broken, and once I'm on my feet he grabs my hands with his own in an iron grip.

"Come along my dear," he purrs arrogantly, surreptitiously running one of his fingers across my palm with gentle ease. "Time to have a little 'chat'."

Growling deep in my throat I follow him towards the dark companionway that leads to his cabin, the crew goes about their business quietly, though I sense a feeling of tension in the air as soon as Hook leads me through the dark doorway and into the bowels of the ship.

We finally reach Hook's cabin door, and I let out a small whimper as Hook pushes it open with his hook and then slams it behind him, untying my wrists at the same time. "Now..." he murmurs in my ear, eliciting yet another shiver from me at the brush of his lips against my skin. He releases my hands and slowly traces the line of my jaw with one finger, and I tear myself away from him in desperation and bolt towards the doorway in a frantic attempt at freedom.

Quicker than I would ever have thought Hook reaches out and gets hold of my hair, scolding me quietly, mockingly, as he yanks me back into his embrace. "Tsk tsk. You can't run away from your host, my dear. It's not good form, you know," he says as he cups my jaw with his hand.

I thrash wildly in his grip, ignoring the pain of his hook's blunt edge digging into my side where it rests to hold me in place. Not knowing what else to do I start screaming, hoping that someone who is willing to help me will hear me, when suddenly I'm cut off mid-shriek as Hook presses his lips to mine, taking advantage of my open mouth to thrust deeply with his tongue.

Immediately I fling myself backwards and away from him, but end up landing in the blood red chair in the corner of the room with my legs and arms splayed out in front of me staring at Hook, who is smiling smugly once more. I glare at him, quickly pulling my knees together and crossing my arms in front of me. "Is that smart-ass look glued to your face or what?" I spit at him, and Hook chuckles.

"I can think of much better uses for that sweet mouth of yours than cursing, Miss Pan," he says without changing his expression, and mimics me by crossing his arms across his chest as well. "Would you like me to show you?"

I flip him off, really past the use of caution at this point, and bare my teeth at him in a furious grimace. "No I would not, you bastard. I would rather you go and drown yourself."

Hook, instead of getting angry as I had been expecting, simply turns away from me and goes over to the one cabinet I hadn't explored when I had been first locked in here. He unlocks it with a key he pulls from his coat pocket and reaches inside, pulling out a tall bottle of what I can only assume is whiskey. Taking a small sip, he places the key back in his pocket and offers me the bottle, a teasing smile on his face that seems completely out of character for him.

"Go on, my dear. Take a sip. It'll surely calm your nerves a little at the very least." Warily I take the bottle from his hand and raise it to my face. Taking a deep breath, I can smell nothing to alert me to any drug or poison, but with a pirate you never know.

Nevertheless I shrug my shoulders and take a small sip, figuring that I have nothing to lose anymore, and anyway, hadn't he taken a sip as well? I take a small sip, and my eyes widen at the strong fruity flavor with a hint of alcohol that leaves a pleasant tingling aftertaste on my tongue. I take a larger swallow, tipping my head back and swallowing the sweet liquid, when a strange weakness steals over me. The bottle slips from my nerveless fingers to land with a thud on the floor, and I fall back in the chair as though boneless.

My mind is still wide awake and alert however, and I find that I can still move my mouth when I manage to say, "What the hell did you do to me you bastard?" Hook chuckles darkly, and I glare daggers at him from my position in the chair.

"You're a beautiful girl, but you're also very naïve, my dear," he says as he bends down to pick up the bottle from the ground. "Did you honestly think I would simply leave you alone? And I was under the impression that you were bright." I growl deep in my throat at Hook while cursing my own stupidity.

"And I was under the impression that you were brave, but I guess that was a lie." Hook has his back to me as he places the bottle back in the cabinet, but I see his shoulder muscles tighten through his coat as my words hit home. "What, you can't deal with a sixteen year old girl unless she's drugged and defenseless? Some pirate you turned out to-" I stop mid-sentence as a knife spins through the air and embeds itself in the wood beside my head.

I look up to see Hook facing me, panting in rage, with his arm still extended from when he had thrown the blade. He stomps over to me, his eyes bright red, and slams his palm against the armrest of the chair, digging his hook into the other armrest while I struggle frantically to regain control of my body. Enunciating every word as though it were as deadly as the knife beside my head, he says, "I have been extraordinarily tolerant of you, Miss Pan, but now my patience wears thin. A few more words out of those pretty lips and that blade could have been in your skull rather than the chair. I would advise you to watch your tongue in the future if you wish to keep it." I stare up at him in terror, knowing that now I've gone too far.

Spinning on his heel, Hook walks over to his cabin door and yanks it open violently, his shoulders still tight with repressed anger. Before stepping through the doorway he pauses, keeping his back to me and saying, "I warn you, Miss Pan, do not refuse me again. As I have said before, I am not a patient man, and your life could very well depend on your answer. Good night." With this he sweeps into his cabin and slams the door behind him, leaving me lying limp on the chair where he left me.


	6. Apologies and Dinner Dates

While I lie there, the drug Hook and laced the wine with still running through my veins, I marvel at the tenuous hold on life I've managed to keep thus far. It's amazing I've lasted this long, the way I've been acting towards Hook, when he could have killed me any time he wanted.

"What am I going to do?" I mutter under my breath, and I jump at the sound of Hook's tired voice coming through the door.

"Who are you asking, my dear? Personally, I would suggest that the first thing you do is get out of that chair, seeing as the drug I gave you wore off several minutes ago." My eyes widen, and I immediately sit upright in the chair, flexing my muscles and marveling at the feeling of being able to control my own body again. Hook's voice comes through the door again. "Now, if you would be so kind, would you please come here, Miss Pan? There is something we need to discuss."

I freeze where I am in fear, my eyes immediately flicking to the door, and hear Hook chuckle. "The door is locked, Miss Pan, so don't even think about it. Don't worry, I'm not going to attack you. I just want to talk."

Slowly I rise from my seat on the chair and weigh my options. On one hand, if I refuse to go into the cabin I'll just make Hook angry and he'll come out and most likely drag me in there. On the other hand, if I go in there willingly it could make him more sympathetic towards me and keep him from... "attacking" me again.

I sigh. "It seems like there's only one option," I mutter, striding over to Hook's cabin door and pushing open the door.

I find Hook lounging on the bed, holding in his hand the book I had left on his nightstand the last time I had been in here, looking up at me with a smile. Warily I inch around the door and shut it behind me, never taking my eyes off of the dangerous man lying in front of me as he closes the book and lays it on the table beside him.

Crossing his legs casually in front of him, he pats the mattress beside him in an obvious invitation. "Won't you sit down, Miss Pan?" Nervous now, I shake my head, and Hook's eyes narrow.

"That was not a request, Miss Pan. Sit. Now." Shaking with fear, I walk to the edge of the bed and sit down, making sure I'm as far from Hook as I can possibly be. He sighs in exasperation. "Closer, Miss Pan. I'm not poisonous."

I stare up at him with wide, frightened eyes as I slide closer to him until our hips are mere centimeters apart. "Please," I whisper, nearing full-blown panic. "Don't..."

Hook looks down at me in surprise and... shame? "Have I really scared you that badly?" He says, more to himself than to me, and I look up at him in shock. What, did he think I wouldn't care that he had sexually harassed me or something? Of course he scared me!

Letting out a sigh, Hook turns to face me. "I didn't call you in here to attempt to kiss you, Miss Pan. In fact, I've called you here to... apologize for my actions earlier." My jaw drops open, and my eyes grow as wide as saucers.

"You're... apologizing? You?" I can't believe my ears. Hook shoots me a look of annoyance and frowns.

"Yes, I'm apologizing. Believe it or not, I can actually be a relatively decent person occasionally." Pausing, he turns a serious gaze on me. "I've also realized that for some reason I get no pleasure kissing you against your will. Quite the opposite, in fact. I find myself feeling guilty for-" He cuts off, his cheeks turning slightly pink. "Never mind. The point is that I will no longer attempt to... "bother" you any longer." His small smirk returns and he says, "But that doesn't mean I will stop trying to win you, Miss Pan. In fact this simply means I will have to resort to more drastic measures." Hook reaches out and caresses my cheek lightly, his smile turning wickedly desirous. "I get the feeling that though you put up a strong front, secretly you have a... weakness towards me that goes deeper than simply the fact that I'm stronger than you." He moves his face closer to mine. "Maybe, you're attracted to me, Miss Pan?"

Before I can feel his lips against my own I shove him away, though my heart is beating rapidly and my breathing is coming in sharp pants. Leaping to my feet, I bolt out of the room and slam the door behind me, but I can still hear his deep chuckle reverberating through the door.

"It seems I was right, after all," Hook says quietly, knowing I'll hear every word. "This will be an interesting game to play, Maggie, my dear. I wonder, how long can you resist before you break?" Suddenly his voice turns menacing and full of dark truth. "For I promise you, I will never give up. Not until the day I draw my last breath. So you'd best become accustomed to my presence wherever you go, because you are never going to be out of my sight."

I screw up my courage and ask, with more force than I feel, "What about the bathroom, Captain? Or am I denied that privilege as well?"

Hook chuckles once more, and I feel a shiver go up my spine. "That's up to you, Maggie. I will leave you alone if you wish, or... not." I blush at the implications of his comment, but still at his next request. "And I would prefer, since I'm currently using your first name, that you call me James."

I feel sweat break out all over me at the idea. Using his first name will only bring me closer to accepting that he is a human being with feelings; feelings that could extend to me. And that will be a very dangerous thought to have when he'll be following my every footstep. However, he was very generous in offering my freedom to choose, and he could just as easily rescind that offer.

I hang my head resignedly. "All right... James."

Just as I thought, saying the name makes it easier to imagine him at my level. It makes him no longer a mythical figure with the power to take my life, but a man. Just a man. A man who is coming very close to winning my heart and knows it, and to whom I could lose everything I hold dear.

Through the door I can almost feel Hook's triumphant grin, and I let my head fall forward against the wood with a thud. Immediately I hear footsteps approaching the door, and before I can regain my balance the door is yanked open violently, causing me to stumble forward. I hit something warm and solid, and the two strong bands that wrap around me and hold me in place I realize are Hook's arms. With my face still pressed to his chest I can feel a blush rising in my cheeks, and I try to push away from him with all my strength, but Hook simply holds me in place.

I feel his breath on the back of my neck as he speaks. "I heard a thud and thought you had fallen, Miss Pan. I only meant to help you." He chuckles, and I feel it rumble through his chest. "Though this situation suits my tastes much more nicely."

While my head is telling me that this is the wrong situation to be putting myself in, my racing heart and boiling blood say otherwise. I find myself becoming aware of everything around me, from the warmth of Hook's chest to the feel of his shirt on my skin, right down to the faint traces of rum and gunpowder that cling to his clothes. I feel him bend down with slow deliberateness, placing a light kiss on the top of my head.

At this innocent brush of his lips I stiffen, pushing myself away from him and stumbling out of his arms. "I'm sorry," I gasp, my heart still fluttering and my breaths coming in quick, sharp pants. "I just-"

Hook raises his eyes until they meet mine, and the intensity of his gaze stops me in the middle of my sentence. I stand there as if frozen, my mouth hanging slightly open as I stare into his bright blue eyes, and the silence yawns like a hungry mouth between us, threatening to swallow us whole.

"I, um..." I struggle to restart my brain, but still no words will come out of my mouth. It's as if the space between me and Hook has sucked all coherent thoughts from my head and replaced them with dust and mothballs, which are now sitting there, useless and taking up all of the space that should be used for conversation.

Hook finally speaks, breaking the silence and making me jump. "Please join me for dinner. It will be served in a couple hours. Smee will show you to a temporary berth of your own, and you will find suitable attire waiting for you there." I remain where I am, stunned into speechlessness, as Hook walks over to me and takes my hand, raising it to his lips slowly and brushing his lips across my knuckles. This elicits a shiver from me, and Hook smiles knowingly as my reaction registers. "Until then, my dear."

He turns away for a moment, but just as I begin to turn around myself he spins back, grips my shoulder tightly, and presses his lips fiercely to my own. It is a wild kiss, full of desperation and pent-up emotion, and I feel as though I'm going to drown in the feelings that stir inside me when he finally pulls away. Without another word he spins away, stalking into his cabin and slamming the door behind him, leaving me standing speechless in the middle of the room when Smee walks in.

I turn around slowly, my brain still numb with giddy shock, and see the small man standing at the door with a bemused (and knowing) smile on his face. "Shall I show you to your cabin, then, Miss?"


	7. Who's This Isabella Character?

Smee, after leading me out of Hook's cabin in a dazed stupor, brings me to a large oak-paneled door with a brass handle. We step inside the room, and Smee immediately shuts the door quietly behind us, shuffling around like a nervous parent preparing for their child's first date. He begins by straightening up the bed and dresser, re-folding something laid out on the bed, and finally pushing me to sit in a chair in front of the solid oak desk in the corner.

Through the haze of confusion and pleasure left over from Hook's kiss, I wonder briefly who had lived here before and had merited such lavish accommodations, for they certainly are lavish indeed. The bed is queen-sized, the dresser and desk's knobs are brass, and all over the rest of the room are signs of the care and preparation that went into furnishing this room.

Interrupting my musings is Smee, who pushes something frilly and heavy into my arms with a little more gusto than I consider necessary.

"Get into that miss," he says nervously, and I look up at him in amusement, the heavy fog left from when Hook had kissed me slowly lifting.

"Why are you so nervous, Mister... um... Why are you so nervous?" I stumble over how to address Smee, deciding to simply leave it as a question. The small man turns to me with a stressed smile, and I almost break out laughing at how much his expression reminds me of my mother when she had something important to get ready for.

Wringing his hands nervously, as though he has to be in continuous movement, he says, "Oh, miss. It's just been so long since the captain has showed any interest in anyone, much less a woman." He looks at my shocked expression with reproach. "Come now, miss, you can't honestly tell me you haven't noticed." While I blush furiously at this comment, Smee continues with a smile that reveals knowledge far beyond what I would expect of this comical, bumbling, yet endearing man. "And you can't try to hide the fact that you feel something for the Captain as well."

While I sputter speechlessly, Smee continues flitting about the room until there's nothing left that he hadn't changed or rearranged in some way. It is at that moment, trying to contain my shock, outrage, and embarrassment that I had been so transparent in my feelings, that I finally looks down at what Smee had shoved into my hands minutes ago. Wrinkling my nose in disgust, I shove the horrible thing away from me.

"Smee," I say disdainfully, "What is this?"

Turning around for a moment, he raises one thick white brow. "It's a dress, of course. I thought that would be obvious, miss."

I hold the frilly pink thing farther from my body, turning my head slightly as though hoping it will look better from a different angle. No such luck. "But it's pink. And it has bows on it. And lace."

Smee looks perplexed. "Isn't that what girls like, miss?"

I shake my head, too shocked and appalled at the idea of wearing this frilly monstrosity to form coherent words.

Smee looked downhearted, his face crumpling like a deflated balloon. "I tried to get what I thought you'd like, miss... I'm sorry if it's not to your liking..."

Immediately I feel bad for my adamant disgust towards the dress, and I reluctantly stand and hold it up to my body. "Actually, now that I look at it, it's really not as bad as I thought..." It's worse, I silently moan.

The dress is floor-length, and a shade of pink that makes me want to gag. The neckline is square, but slightly rounded at the bottom, with a small fringe of lace all around it, and it dips much too low in my opinion. The rest of the front is a waterfall of lace and frills, billowing out around my legs like a big hideous circus tent. I guess it would have been pretty... but only for someone living a hundred years ago! To me it's just a Victorian nightmare. Of course, I would never tell Smee that. Not after he spent so much time picking it out for me.

"Well then put it on, miss! See how it looks in the flesh!" I groan inwardly and start to lift my shirt when I realize Smee hasn't left yet. And it doesn't look like he plans to either. "Um... Smee?" I say, confused.

"Yes miss?"

I clear my throat uncomfortably. "Aren't you going to leave?"

Smee looks at me as though I've just grown a second head. "Why would I do that? You'll require someone to help lace up the dress." My eyes bug out.

"Laces? As in, tie-it-so-tight-you-can't-breathe laces?" I feel my heart nearly stop at the thought.

"Well of course I'd try to make it as loose as I can, but..." Smee looks uncomfortable.

"I know. I guess I was being overly optimistic." I turn away from the man and lift my shirt up and over my head, blushing as I pull the dress on over my pants. Smee coughs once, and when I realize the problem my blush deepens.

"Oh, right," I mutter as I pull off my bra, throwing it on the ground beside my shirt. Only then does the man move up behind me and grip the laces running the full length of my back.

"The captain said you wouldn't want the corset, so I guess we'll leave that out." I let out a sigh of relief, but when I realize the implications of what he had said and my eyes narrow.

"How would the captain know what I would prefer?" I growl, my tone growing harsh and angry. Smee yanks the first lace tight at the same time that he answers.

"He guessed, miss. Usually the captain's guesses turn out to be true, though." I let out my breath in one long sigh, but still remain wary. If Hook could guess at that, what else could he guess at?

Smee suddenly clears his throat loudly. "I'm going to need to have you breathe in again, miss. Tightening this is going to be difficult enough as it is." I grimace, sucking in my stomach as much as I can and flinching every time another lace is pulled. For a small guy, Smee is incredibly strong.

Finally, with one last powerful tug, Smee ties a bow and steps back, admiring his handiwork. Gathering my lost breath I gasp, "Is that it?"

Smee chuckles. "Almost, miss. Just need to do up the buttons."

"Buttons?" I moan. "Are they gonna make it tighter?" This time Smee lets out a blast of full-blown laughter as he brings a flap of fabric over the row of laces, hiding the loose strings underneath it and begins to do up the line of pearl buttons running down it's length.

Finally he finishes, stepping back and sniffling emotionally. I turn and face him, my expression embarrassed and confused. "What? Does it look that bad?"

Instead of answering, Smee grips my shoulders and spins me around, and I find myself looking into a floor-length mirror. My eyes widen in astonishment. The beauty in the mirror cannot be me. Her body is perfect, with a tiny waist and flaring hips, plus delicate creamy skin peeking out from under the lacy fabric that shimmers over the rest of her body. Despite my original thoughts about the dress, the color actually looks nicer than I thought it would, and the lace and frills are less noticeable if the dress is being worn by someone at the time.

I turn to Smee, elation written on my face, and he nods in silent acceptance of my thanks. I leave it at that, knowing that the man would most likely become embarrassed with liberal praise.

"So when is dinner," I ask, and feel all of the joy at seeing myself looking so nice fade to fear and nerves at the idea of the coming ordeal. How would I be able to face Hook, knowing now how my feelings towards him have begun to change?

Smee smiles at me. "Why, now, miss. It's been almost half an hour since you left the Captain's quarters, after all." My eyes widen in shock, and my breathing speeds up quite a bit. I thought I would have time to prepare, time to think! What was I going to do!

As if sensing my growing panic, Smee backs away quietly and opens the door. "I'll just go down and ask the captain if he's ready, miss. Take some time to think, if you wish, until I get back." I send Smee a look so full of gratitude I'm sure it will embarrass him, but he simply smiles in return and backs out of the room, closing the door behind him.

Now that I'm alone, I realize I have no idea what to do with myself. I had thought it would be as easy as simply sitting down and thinking, but I find myself so full of energy I can't help moving, switching from pacing to sitting and tapping my feet to staring in the mirror at my face, which is getting increasingly paler.

Finally I force myself to sit still on the bed, though I can't stop my knee from bouncing up and down in agitation, as though it can't stay still long enough. Slowly, taking deep breaths in and out, I find the peace within myself to let me think about something other than my worries and fears.

Instead I focus on the good parts of the coming evening. I'll get to eat a real dinner, for one. I hadn't realized how hungry I was until food was mentioned. I mean, I hadn't had a proper meal since breakfast yesterday morning. I freeze, my mind going blank with shock. Had it really been only two days since Hook kidnapped me? It felt like a lifetime had already passed, or at least a few weeks.

And yet it's completely believable. Everything so far has seemed almost magical, dreamlike and unreal in its speed and energy. Things have been moving so quickly it's hard to follow them, and although I know I shouldn't feel so strongly about Hook after only two days of knowing him, I can't help it. It's as though there's an invisible current tugging me along, and he's the ocean it eventually leads into.

Sometimes it seems that it's as inevitable as the sun rising and setting, and other times as unlikely as me suddenly growing wings and flying home to my father. Somehow I know, though, that no matter which way this relationship (I shudder at the word) goes, Hook will always remain in some part of my life. Whether he is the hero or the villain is yet to be decided, but I'm starting to think that it really doesn't matter which it is as long as it's him.

Before I know it Smee is knocking on the door once more, calling me out to follow him to the captain's quarters. I rise slowly from my chair, feeling altogether calm and peaceful, though my nerves hadn't completely disappeared. They had simply moved aside to make room for the sudden understanding inside me, waiting to pounce as soon as my eyes met a certain blue-eyed gaze. Opening the door, I meet Smee's gaze and smile crookedly, knowing that tonight will change many things, least of which how I feel about Hook.

Smee, sensing the change in my demeanor, smiles back at me with hope shining from his face, and I realize he looks after the captain with more care than even Hook realizes. The sensitive man had seen much in his years, and took care of his captain with the love of a brother. At this moment he is doing all he can to find his captain the one thing in life he desires, and I can tell he thinks it might just be me.

I don't want to shatter his dreams, partly because I'm hoping he's right, but I'm also not going to make things easy for Hook. I don't fall in love easily, and I definitely won't give my heart to someone simply because they've claimed my attention.

Suddenly Smee stops, and I realize just in time that I was about to walk into the captain's cabin door. With a knowing smile he opens the door, and at that moment I realize Hook hadn't even sent guards to follow Smee to make sure I didn't run. I try to remember when I decided that I was going to stay on the ship, but apparently it had never been a real decision, simply a gradual acceptance that had turned into an almost conscious desire to stay.

I wasn't even sure that if I went home at this moment I would be happy there. I was starting to get the feeling that Neverland had claimed me almost as fully as it had claimed Hook, maybe more so, since it was he who had captured my attention in the first place.

At that moment the door to Hook's cabin swings open fully, and I suck in a breath at the sight before me. The table in the center of the room has a blood red tablecloth draped across it, and at either end of the table there is a place set, complete with expensive silver and a crystal goblet filled to the brim with what looks like red wine. A full moon shines silently down through the windows, casting everything in a milky white glow.

Two tall ivory candles have been placed in the center of the table, but the line they create goes perpendicular to the table, leaving a clear and unobstructed view between them from either end of the table. This magnificent view doesn't even include the food. Every fruit I can imagine, then some I can't, gently steaming rolls that look as though they've just come fresh from the oven, chicken stuffed with garlic and rosemary, glazed ham, and to top it all off, a golden brown apple pie sprinkled with cinnamon.

But I feel my eyes drift from this feast laid out before me, drawn as though by a magnet towards the object of so much of my confusion and anger and pain, yet one of few reasons for my continued presence on this ship. Hook. Standing like a pale ghost in the moonlight, yet dressed all in red, is my rescuer and my executioner, my angel and my demon, someone I have yet to understand and who I have no idea how to feel about.

He looks up at me with the calm grace of a predator when it meets the eyes of its prey, and just as I thought, the second my eyes lock with his my calm feelings go right out the window, to be replaced by fear and anxieties. What will I say, what will I do, do I look stupid, do I smell bad, on and on and on the list went, growing bigger by the second.

Suddenly I hear the door snap closed behind me, making me jump slightly. Hook chuckles, and the deep, rich sound has me shivering as he begins walking towards me. Gently taking my hand in his own, he looks me up and down approvingly. While I blush wildly at his gaze, he lifts my hand to his lips and brushes my knuckles lightly across his mouth. At the same time he says, "You look beautiful, my dear. I'm glad the dress fits you so well."

My blush turns a deeper red, and I lower my eyes modestly. "Thank you, captain. It is very kind of you to say so." Hook smiles, apparently at my embarrassment, and then frowns. Oh, great I think, what did I do now?

Hook looks down at me sternly. "I thought we agreed you were going to call me James from now on," he says, and I immediately relax. I haven't done something wrong yet. That's one worry down, at least.

Shyly I raise my gaze to his. "I'm sorry... James. I had forgotten." Hook raises an eyebrow in a way that makes me want to smile and shiver at the same time.

"I'm afraid an apology is not going to be enough, Maggie, my dear," He says smoothly, and I draw in a shaky breath I didn't realize I'd been holding. This is it, I think frantically. He's going to ask you to do something, and you're going to have to say yes or no. Which will it be, Maggie?

Hook leans closer to me, bringing his face right up to mine and smiling, his eyes gleaming with predatory calm. "I'm going to need a kiss if you want me to be able to forgive you." I draw in a breath, my worries solidifying. What to do what to do what to do repeats itself like a mantra in my head, trying to beat its way out and find the answer somewhere else. Suddenly I land upon the answer and nearly break out laughing at the expression I imagine will be on Hook's face.

I lift myself up onto my tiptoes, stretching as far as I can towards James' face, but at the last second I turn and place the light kiss on the fine stubble on his cheek instead of his lips. When I pull back and walk lightly to my seat, pulling out my own chair quietly and settling myself down into it before he can reply, I hear James step up behind me.

Leaning forward until his mouth is right beside my ear, he whispers darkly, "That was not what I meant and you know it. Just for that, you owe me a kiss now, Maggie. A proper one, not that poor excuse for one you gave me just now. And I expect my payment tonight, after dinner. Be ready to pay the price of your silliness." Belying his words, however, his tone is playful and full of promise, and it sends shivers up and down my spine.

Before I can get really uncomfortable with him behind me he moves away, walking to the other end of the table and taking a seat silently. Resting his chin against his hand, he sends me a look that feels like an electric current singing across the table, raising goosebumps on my arms and making the hairs on the back of my neck stand straight up.

"So, Maggie," James purrs, never once taking his eyes from mine. "What do you think of the dinner?"

Momentarily stunned by the power of his gaze, I blink a few times before answering. "It all looks wonderful, captain." When I realize the mistake I've made I gasp. "Oh, I mean-"

James tut-tuts me softly, shaking his head slowly with a wicked grin clinging to his lips. "It looks like you owe me two kisses, Maggie. I'm almost happy with your frequent lapses in memory. Pretty soon I'll be able to have a kiss whenever I want." Suddenly he straightens abruptly, slapping his hand lightly against the table and making me jump. "But enough of this. Dinner is getting cold, and I don't think Cookson would be pleased to find that the food he so carefully prepared had been left to cool."

With that we both start to pile food on our plates, and I have to say I piled a lot faster than Hook did. This is probably due to the fact that I haven't eaten in almost two days, but that doesn't diminish Hook's reaction.

"Are you going to eat that all now, my dear, or are you planning on stashing some of it in your cabin in case I try to starve you?" Hook chuckles at his own joke and I shoot him a sour look, but keep putting more food on my plate nevertheless. Finally, when I'm afraid the plate will crack under the weight, I stop loading food onto it and start eating instead.

The chicken is tender, the ham is warm and pink, the rolls are buttery and warm, and the fruit is fresh and cool on my throat. Vaguely, as I continue shoving food into my mouth and swallowing so much that I almost choke, I hear a snort from the other end of the table. Looking up angrily, I glare at Hook as he doubles over in silent laughter, his face almost in his plate as his shoulders shake violently.

"What?" I ask angrily, though with my mouthful of food it comes out more like "Bwah?"

At this Hook bursts out in a roar of laughter, gripping his sides and tipping back in his chair until he's about to fall over backwards.

Swallowing the wad of food in my mouth at the moment, I leap to my feet in fury. "Fine, if I'm so funny, I guess I'll just leave so my hilarity won't disturb your meal!" With that I turn and walk to the door, fully intending to walk out and lock myself in my cabin like a little child, but suddenly a hand reaches out to grab my arm. It's only then that I realize the raucous laughter that had only moments before been filling the room has disappeared, and Hook is no longer sitting at the table. Instead he's standing behind me, his chest pressed against my back and his hand gripping my right shoulder tightly.

I turn my body slowly, and find myself staring right into Hook's bright blue eyes. He releases my shoulder, instead wrapping his good arm around my waist and tugging me closer until our hips are barely two inches apart. Then he takes his hook and gently lifts my chin until I'm looking straight into his eyes, and I shudder at the expression on his face. It's pleading and apologetic and full of desire all at once, and I feel my heart start to race at the blend of sweet and dangerous emotions passing between us.

"I think I'll take those kisses now, Miss Pan," Hook says, his voice a deep rumble that alluring reverberates through my chest and makes a blush rise in my cheeks. He leans forward, not waiting for my response, but I frantically put out my hands to stop him before his lips touch mine. I've realized I'm not ready for this yet. I need time to sort out my feelings before diving headfirst into a physical relationship.

"Wait, captain!" I shout when he pushes my arms aside and continues to press forward. I stumble backwards in desperation, only to stop as soon as my back hits the wall behind me. Hook leans over me, his irises glowing dark crimson, and I cower fearfully under his lust-filled gaze. The eyes that had moments ago been filled with care and concern have become empty and wild, and I can see that Hook has become almost possessed, his lust driving all other thoughts from his brain until there's nothing left but unquenchable need.

With a growl that sends tendrils of fear down my spine, Hook brings his lips down on mine with crushing force and wraps his other arm around my shoulders, resting his hook on my suddenly scorching skin. I whimper, and this seems only to spur him on. His lips become more persistent, endeavoring to pry my mouth open as I continue ineffectively to push against his chest. Tears begin running down my cheeks and drip onto the floor unnoticed.

Suddenly I feel a sharp pain on the top of my left shoulder, where James' hook had previously rested, and I roll my eyes in that direction only to gasp at the sight of the shimmering metal tip embedded a good two inches into the muscle that stretches from my neck to the tip of my collarbone. Letting out a shriek that is muffled by Hook's lips, I twist myself out of his grip. My scream rises in pitch as the sharp steel tears a gash down and across my collarbone nearly four inches long, and I sink to the floor sobbing.

Hook shakes his head, clearing the last of the lust out of his mind, and at the sight of me on the floor with a pool of red slowly spreading around me, every drop of blood drains from his face.

"Not again," he whispers, stumbling backwards and staring down at his hook, now dripping with my blood, in revulsion, "How could this happen again?"

Lost in a world of swirling pain and betrayal, I hear none of this. Just before blood loss forces me to slip into unconsciousness, however, I hear the captain's tortured voice say, "Please don't let her end like Isabella. Not her. Not her." Then the whole world goes black.


	8. Blood Curse

"No- no- don't, please, it hurts, it hurts! Stop! Stop!"

Hook moans, pressing his hands over his ears to drown out Maggie's cries as she sleeps, but still the sound slips through to torment him with flashes of violence, of his hook piercing her soft skin and tearing through muscle like tissue paper. As her moaning rises in pitch and intensity, he finally gets up from his desk, still holding the bottle of whiskey that had been his closest companion since the fateful dinner the night before. Slowly, as though afraid of drawing the sleeping girl's attention, Hook walks over to his own bed in his room where Maggie is lying.

When he reaches the side of the bed he pauses, looking down at the young face that is currently twisted with so much pain, and then pulls back the blankets to check the bandages on her wound. He sucks in a startled breath when he sees that the bandage is once again soaked in blood, and yanks the covers the rest of the way off of Maggie's body to expose the rest of the cloth wrapped around her shoulder.

When he knows that no more blood will get onto the sheets, Hook walks over to the desk once more, picking up a shirt that already has multiple strips torn out of it as he sets down the whiskey bottle. He lets out sigh of grief, and feels the dark cloud that seems to more and more often fill his mind with dark thoughts start to creep up on him, but forces it back into the far corners of his brain and returns to Maggie's side.

She lies there, sweat shining on her face and dripping onto the bed beneath her, and Hook takes great care not to jostle her when he removes the blood-soaked bandage. Finally the cloth is fully removed, and Hook can't help but stare at the gaping gash torn through the muscle covering her collarbone. However, if only to preserve Maggie's decency, seeing as how she is lying under his watchful eyes stripped to the waist in order to make it easier to change the bandage, Hook wraps the new bandage around her shoulder and pulls the covers back over her, feeling a twinge of disappointment as her body is once again covered by the shapeless blanket.

However, he leans down to kiss her feverish brow and then rests his forehead against hers, praying that somehow she'll pull through and find a way to survive, if only so he doesn't have to be alone again.

Suddenly Maggie moans again, and Hook growls in anger as he spins away from her side and returns to his bottle resting on the now empty dinner table. "Why did I lose control again?! Why?!" He shouts, slamming his fist down on the table in rage. He grabs the bottle of whiskey in his hand, lifting it to his mouth and taking a deep swig that burns its way down his throat and leaves him gasping. With slow and controlled movements, he places the bottle back down, instead stepping over to the window at the rear of his cabin and staring morosely out at the sea.

_He remembered well the day he had first met Isabella. It had been mere months after he himself had first arrived in Neverland, which was the only reason he could still remember that far back into his past. She had been found washed up on the island's northern shore, which happened to be where Hook and his crew were sailing, and Hook had been standing on the deck when the lookout spotted her, gripping the railing of his ship tightly in both hands, for this was before he had met the cursed boy who deprived him of one of these appendages, scanning the horizon as if from it he could pry the secret of how to return home to England._

_Suddenly a loud cry from the man in the crow's nest had roused him from his searching, and after the woman had been brought on board he had ordered her carried to his cabin. Fascinated by the beautiful woman with hair blacker than his own, he had simply sat and stared at her as she lay on his bed until she awoke, coughing and spluttering in a very un-ladylike fashion._

_Her first action was to look around her, and her second action was to let out a shrill screech at the sight of Hook sitting in the other room with his gaze glued to her face. At this obviously feminine reaction Hook had smiled, glad to finally have some sort of evidence that the real world still existed, even if that evidence had nearly burst his eardrums._

_Almost immediately the woman had calmed down and listened to his story, sympathizing with him at his forced arrival into Neverland, though he never elaborated on how exactly that had come about, and she never pushed the subject. He had found himself becoming attached to her as she listened to him, and he became even more intrigued by her when she told him how she had fallen over the side of her father's merchant ship in the middle of a storm, and had then woken up in his cabin with no clue as to where she was or what her father's fate had been. When she broke down into tears Hook had gone against his naturally bloodthirsty pirating nature and had held her as she wept, once again feeling a new and tentative attachment to this woman._

_Over the next few months a stronger bond developed between the two of them, and Hook found himself slowly falling in love with the woman, whose name was Isabella. They spent long hours simply walking the decks of the Jolly Roger, enjoying each other's company, or taking strolls through the small town full of unwilling residents of Neverland like themselves that lay on the eastern coast of the island in a small and sheltered harbor._

_To Hook it seemed like a dream. Suddenly killing and plundering held no appeal for him anymore, and even going home didn't sound like a very pleasant option unless he could take Isabella with him. However, good things can never last, and there came a day when a beautiful woman from the town who had, drawn to his deadly grace and mystery, been trying to charm Hook for many years but had never succeeded, found out about the goings-on between Hook and Isabella._

_She flew into a rage unlike any other and began cooking up a deadly brew that she learned about from one of the Indian tribes, deciding in her fury that the best way to punish Hook was to take his love from him just as that girl had taken her love from her. So she delved further into the forests, adding to the Indian recipe and changing its dark purpose to fit her own revenge, and when it was finally finished she smuggled it onboard the Jolly Roger in the dead of night._

_She crept to Hook's cabin, peering in the window on the door and seething at the sight of him and Isabella kissing each other, entwined on the floor as they did so, and before they could see her she leapt into the room. With a screech of pain and rage that caused the two to pull apart, the woman ran to Hook and threw the entire vial of potion into his bright blue eyes, which had been staring at the woman next to him with such love and adoration._

_Immediately the captain roared, falling again to the ground while the women in the room with him could only look on, one with glee and the other with terror. Hook writhed on the floor for one long minute, shouting and growling at intervals, and when Isabella happened to catch a glimpse of his eyes she gasped at the sight that they had turned a bloody red._

_Finally Hook ceased moving and yelling, and instead staying on his hands and knees in the middle of the carpet, his chest heaving. When he looked up, however, the eyes that stared out at the room no longer belonged to the captain that Isabella had fallen in love with. Instead they most likely would have been better suited for some wild beast, bloodthirsty and rabid. The woman who had made the potion attempted to run, but as soon as Hook sensed her movement he leapt to his feet, moving to her with inhuman speed and grabbing hold of her neck. Her scream was cut off as he tore out her throat with his teeth._

_Isabella gasped, stumbling backwards against the cabin wall, and shrieked when Hook, his mouth and chin dripping with blood that now matched the color of his eyes, turned to her and started slowly walking over, dropping the dead woman onto the floor as he came._

_Isabella turned frantically from side to side, but whichever way she moved Hook would compensate, not letting her gain one inch of distance from the wall, and when he reached her he pinned her to the bulkhead by the throat, slowly squeezing the life out of the woman who he had fallen so deeply in love with over the past months._

_"Please-" Isabella managed to gasp out before there was a terrible crack and her head lolled sideways, the neck holding it up broken like a twig._

_Hook stood in that room for a long while, simply staring through the bloodlust at the two women lying dead on his floor, frozen for some inexplicable reason that his savage, animalistic brain couldn't comprehend. Finally the red seeped from his eyes, his fury spent, and he gasped at the carnage surrounding him. His teeth were coated with a dead woman's blood, and his hands had squeezed the life out of the only person who had loved him in his long, long life._

_The pain too much for him to bear, he went over to the cabinet containing his wide array of blades and picked up the sharpest he could find. He stood there, holding it above his heart, but when he stabbed through his chest nothing happened. There was pain, for sure, so much that it almost sent him into unconsciousness, but he did not die. His heart inexplicably continued beating without his consent, or perhaps he simply no longer needed it after what he had just done._

_Not able to accept the idea of living, Hook continued to stab himself, over and over, in any place he could think of. Stomach, heart, lungs, neck… None worked in ending his pain once and for all. He even tried, in one last desperate attempt at death, to cut off his own head, but as soon as the blade was two inches through, the skin that it had already cut through began healing, until he had a blade through the side of his neck that still wouldn't let him die._

_Eventually he gave up, placing the bloody blade back in the cabinet, locking himself in his cabin and drinking himself into a drunken coma before Smee came in and saw the carnage. Smee took it upon himself to bury the two women quietly, leaving the captain in his room with his grief._

_And so it had continued, with Hook staying in his cabin when he wasn't searching for the flying boy who had cut off his hand with a fairy blade while Hook was visiting Isabella's grave, and with Smee constantly providing for him. It was Smee who had found the Indian shaman who had the knowledge of how to suppress his "blood curse", even though he said that there was no way to cure it._

_That had been his life for the previous centuries. He would sleep, eat, drink, and fight, his life holding no other activities but these. He never ventured off his ship unless it was to search for Peter Pan, for everything had lost its color and sweetness after Isabella's death._

_But then Maggie and her brother had fallen into his life many years after Peter Pan had left the island, and he found another reason to live in Pan's young daughter. Until the girl returned to him, he had sat in his cabin staring at the horizon, waiting for the day she would arrive once more. At least, until he managed to capture a fairy who told him the secret of how to travel between the worlds._

_The revelation had changed the course of his life, because now whenever he could he would take a band of men into the other world to simply watch Maggie, and apart from one small accident when she was eighteen the journeys went along without a hitch. Finally there came the day when she was to return with him, and he had felt a sense of joy tantamount to what he had felt with Isabella at the thought of her coming to his ship._

_However, since the death of Isabella his passions had been too restrained, too controlled, and he had lost all reason or concern for her own wellbeing, instead focusing on his own lusts. But just when he thought that everything was beginning to turn around, the damn blood curse had sprung up within him once more and caused him to nearly take the life of the second woman he had ever loved._

_Yes, he loved Maggie._

_And not even Satan himself could pry her from him now that he had found her…_


	9. The Ties That Bind

Hook awakens from his reverie, shocked to find his fist clenched and his hook dug into the window frame, and spins on his heel to stare once more into his bedroom where Maggie is still sleeping fitfully. He grits his teeth and stalks over to the doorway, pausing to stare at her sleeping form with longing.

_What will she think of me? How could she ever accept that I didn't mean to hurt her?_

His stomach clenches with that emotion that hadn't made itself known since Isabella's death, and he nearly doubles over with the helplessness that engulfs him. _I can't take this! I can't just stand here not knowing whether she thinks I'm a monster or not!_

Without thinking about his actions, Hook stalks over to Maggie's bed and yanks on the chain hanging from the lamp beside her bed, bathing the room in bright light. The girl moans and begins to wake, and Hook feels an icy hand grip his heart as the anticipation builds.

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Somewhere in the dreamy haze that I had been floating in since dinner, my eyes register the change in lighting and open the tiniest bit, and when they settle on Hook I let out a small gasp and push myself as hard as I can in the opposite direction, straining my already injured shoulder. With a small flinch and another indrawn breath at the pain, I freeze in place and simply stare at the man standing not two feet from me.

"Why?" The word slips out before I can think to hold it in. Do I really want to know the reason behind Hook's vicious attack the night before? Do I really care? With a wave of shame I realize that I do, and rather than take back my question I simply wait for his response.

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Hook blinks, taken aback by her almost reception of him into her room. Why is she not angry? Then he realizes that the shock probably hasn't worn off yet, and this is most likely the last time he'll ever be able to explain his actions. He opens his mouth to explain everything, but closes it again as a new and horrible thought pops into his head.

What if it happens again? What if next time she doesn't survive? What would he do with himself if he knew that he had caused her death by letting himself believe that he could control himself around her? He knew where that would lead. Down a road he hadn't traveled since Isabella's death, and one he was not keen to revisit.

_I have to make her leave,_ Hook thinks with despair. _I can't kill her. I can't let her die like- like Isabella._ He tries to sneer, but fails miserably and instead his face crumples.

"I'm setting you free," he says, and Maggie looks up in surprise. For a moment Hook believes that he might have seen an emotion vaguely resembling pain or sadness, but decides that he must have imagined it when Maggie wipes it from her face. "I'll have Smee take you back to your father, along with a bag of pixie dust in case… well, it has many functions I'm sure you could find use for. It can turn things to gold, allow you to fly, and let you return if the urge struck you to escape for a while."

Throughout this speech Maggie had been looking at him in confusion, and she finally speaks up. "Why are you letting me go? I thought I was going to be your prisoner for life."

Hook looks up at her in surprise, and finds himself growing angry with her. Why couldn't she just leave and save herself? Get herself as far away from him as possible and be safe? "Does it matter?" he snarls, and Maggie looks taken aback. "You're free, so leave!"

Her face fills with hurt for a space of mere seconds, but is again wiped clear as she straightens. "Fine, I will," she says, and Hook feels as though his heart has been cut out with a dull and icy knife.

He steps back from the bed and leaves the room, never once looking back at the sad, injured figure under the covers, but before the door closes behind him he hears the faintest whisper. "I thought I could have loved you…" and slams the door behind him to cut off Maggie's soft voice.

He stalks to the deck of the ship and simply stands there, staring out at the horizon with despair. _This is for the best_, he thinks, not knowing whether he's convincing himself or not.

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My next few hours pass in a blur. Smee is the one to come down to Hook's cabin with my clothes from home and lead me to the deck of the ship, and I wince at the familiar silhouette framed against the setting sun. Hook's shoulders are hunched against the wind that whips his long black hair around his face, and I can almost hear him whispering a mantra to himself. _"It's for the best… It's for the best…"_

Slowly I'm led to the jollyboat hanging off the side of the ship, and I allow myself one backward glance before I step down into the hull. I let out a gasp at the sight of Hook standing on the fo'c'sle, his head turned toward me this time, and think I can almost feel his eyes connect with mine one last time.

To my horror and shame I feel tears running down my cheeks as the jollyboat is lowered into the ocean, and I wipe them away hurriedly. _Am I crazy?_ I think to myself._ He almost killed me last night and I don't want to leave him. Why do I feel this way? Why does it hurt?_

I stare stoically over the bow of the boat, forcing my thoughts to my father and my home, but find that they don't hold the same appeal that they used to. Sure, I missed my dad, but what would happen if I went back? I would keep living with my dad and keeping him company to make up for the guilt that I felt for leaving him alone before my mom died, Paint pictures in my bedroom that would never sell, work at the Laundromat down the street until my hair turned gray or my dad died as well, and live alone for the rest of my years. Not exactly a pleasant prospect.

But if I stayed here I could have the greatest adventure of my life, fall in love with a dashing pirate, and sail the seas on a beautiful ship for the rest of eternity. There was really no competition, but my dad needed me. He was getting older every day and already had trouble getting around on his own. He just wouldn't last without me there to help him.

Just as I had resigned myself to the rest of my lonely life, the decision was made for me. The jollyboat lurched to a dead stop, despite the efforts of the men rowing. However hard they pulled on the oars, the boat wouldn't move another inch. I turned around in my seat only to realize that we had barely gotten fifty feet from the ship in the time it had taken me to realize my entire future. However, it seems that the future is not set in stone as the boat is turned around and the men begin rowing back to the Jolly Roger.

_And back to Hook,_ my traitorous mind thinks, as the figure still standing on the deck grows larger and larger and my spirit grows lighter and lighter the closer we get to the ship.

When we reach the Jolly Roger and I am taken roughly back aboard, Hook stalks down the companionway and bellows, "Why are you back? I told you to bring the girl home!" Smee cowers on the deck before him and apologizes profusely, explaining that they had tried to leave but found that the boat simply would not continue forward.

Hook curses under his breath, and I know immediately that he had suspected something like this to happen. I feel a wave of anger rise up in me, buoyed by my self-loathing at being happy to be here again.

"You knew this was going to happen, didn't you? You bastard, how could you do this to me? Give me hope with the knowledge that I'll never be able to leave anyway! That's just sick." And with that I stop, crossing my arms over my chest with a snarl still on my lips but taking a step or two backwards at the look that appears on Hook's face at my words.

He whips his head up to face me, his eyes wide with an undefinable emotion that looks vaguely like panic. "You think I meant for this to happen?" He shouts. "I suspected that a promise in Neverland might be more binding than a normal one, but I never thought that it would literally bind you to me for eternity!" My eyes widen in shock at the implications of his words, and I feel as though my heart has turned to stone.

"You mean," I whimper, "I can never go home?" Hook's eyes flash dangerously, and I almost see something like triumph in his gaze before it vanishes.

"Not as long as I remain here, my dear." He stalks over to me and grips my face in his good hand, forcing me to look into his bright blue eyes as the sun sets behind him. "And believe me when I say I never plan to leave."


	10. Men

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Captain Hook or any other Barrie characters (unfortunately...), but I hope you enjoy the story i've made with them! Sorry it's been a little while! I'm just so slow...

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I flinch, pulling myself away from Hook's almost gentle caress on my cheek and stumbling backwards across the deck. Shaking my head in disbelief I collapse to the deck in a heap, my shoulders twitching as I sob silently into my hands.

_Why are you so upset?_ a nasty and painfully truthful part of me whispers. _You get to stay with the captain. Your looooove._ Even in my mind the voice sounds mocking and harsh.

_So what if your dad dies without ever seeing you again. Who cares? You're secretly just happy to have a reason to stay here and never go back._ More tears well up in my eyes at these last words, because I know with a heavy heart that they're entirely true. I am happy to be staying, despite everything I've been through and the fact that my father is waiting for me somewhere far away where I can't even speak to him.

What kind of daughter does that make me? First I leave the house and I'm not there when my mother dies, and then I'm secretly glad that I'm never going to see him again if it means that I'll get to stay with a sadistic, cruel, beautiful pirate captain who is keeping me prisoner on his ship.

Suddenly my self-loathing is broken by Hook, who stomps over to me and throws me over his shoulder without a word. Startled by the sudden change in mood from sadness and pity to rage and embarrassment, I find myself speechless for a moment or two. When my injured shoulder gives a particularly nasty jolt of pain, however, my dichotomous feelings vanish to be consumed by anger.

"Put me down you bastard! If I can't leave then at least let me grieve in peace for the life I can never have thanks to you! Put! Me! Down!" I beat repeatedly on his lower back with my uninjured arm, though a blush heats my face when he pushes me further back on his shoulder and leaves me with my nose level with his extremely attractive rear end. Attractive or no, it's presence in my face does nothing for my temper, and indeed fires me up even more until I'm clawing at his back through the velvety fabric stretched tightly across it.

Finally Hook reaches a cabin door, but when he opens it I realize that it's not _his_ cabin that he's brought me to, but the one I had used momentarily before dinner the night before. After slamming the door behind him and throwing me down on the bed with more force than required, Hook simply stands in the middle of the room, breathing heavily as though just having run a marathon.

When I make a small movement as though to bolt from the bed, Hook raises a finger and holds it up before me, the expression on his face making it all too clear how serious he is. I freeze obediently in place, remembering the wound on my shoulder and feeling it twinge in pain, but glare daggers at him when he takes a step forward.

"You are not exactly in a position to be glaring, Maggie my dear, so I would suggest you act a little more courteous towards me if you don't want me to do something we might both regret." With that threat hanging ominously in the air my angry expression turns to one of fear, and I shrink back onto the overstuffed comforters beneath me in a futile attempt to appear less noticeable.

When Hook begins to walk towards the bed, therefore, I let out a small gasp and shuffle backwards until my back is pressed flat against the headboard. However, I feel my traitorous heart begin to pound in my chest as he climbs onto the bed at my feet and sits himself down in front of me, and I feel my cheeks heat with a blush once more when he leans in close to my face.

"I thought you said I just had to stop glaring at you," I whimper as I pull my knees to my chest, feeling his breath on my ear as he pulls himself to his knees and leans over me. "You were going to leave me alone."

Hook chuckles with dark humor, sliding himself closer until his knees rest on either side of my feet and caressing my right leg gently. "I was going to simply drop you in here and walk away, but you injured my back during our little "jaunt". I had no idea fingernails could be that sharp, my dear." He leans back and looks me in the eyes, lips curling upwards in his trademark sinister smile. "I'm afraid I'll need some sort of recompense if you want to escape unscathed. In fact, I'll even let you name the starting price."

The first thing I do is open my mouth to start arguing with him, but soon realize that it would be futile. I would have no hope of winning that argument, and it might make him rescind his offer to allow me to name the first price. I glare at him for another moment before finally saying, "one kiss."

"Two kisses," is Hook's immediate response.

"One."

"Two, and thirty seconds of unhindered... exploration." I blush furiously and gnash my teeth.

"Three kisses and no exploring. Final offer." Hook lets out a warm laugh and brushes his knuckles against the side of my face.

"One kiss and fifteen seconds, Maggie, and that's _my_ final offer." I hesitate, tempted, but shake my head. Too many things that I don't want to think about could happen in fifteen seconds, and three kisses is a much safer offer.

A smile begins to curls Hook's lips, and a shiver runs up my spine at the look in his eyes. "Ah, but now we have a slight problem, my dear. I said that I would let you make the first offer you see, but the final offer is for me to decide. And unless we reach some sort of agreement soon..." He chuckles. "Well, let's just say the cost will get quite a bit steeper."

Instantly my face darkens, and I can actually feel the anger bubbling in my veins. My hands clench, gripping the comforter beneath me and nearly tearing holes in it with my nails. "That's not fair," I grit, burning holes into him with my eyes.

Hook chuckles again, reaching out to cup my chin in his hand and pull my face in close so that I can smell his minty breath. "Life isn't fair, my dear. But I'll give you one last chance to come to an arrangement. Two kisses and thirty seconds." I open my mouth to protest, but the look he gives me silences me. "Be warned. After this I start demanding, and that could very nasty, very fast."

My face crumples, as I sag in defeat. He has me trapped, with the only feasible option being to accept his terms and hope it doesn't end to badly. With a sick feeling that this is going to end leaving me more confused than ever, I bow my head in acceptance.

Immediately Hook's eyes blaze an incandescent blue, and my eyes widen when he lifts himself off of the bed and simply stands beside it. Turning to face the window to my left he says, "You may begin counting as soon as I touch you, my dear, but for now I have a few requests to make of you."

I nod warily, but realize he can't see me with his back turned and instead reply, "alright."

I can almost feel the tension in the room as Hook speaks. "First, I want you to lie down. It can't be comfortable all curled up against the headboard like that, can it?" I freeze, unwilling to open myself up like that.

"I don't hear you moving Maggie," Hook says, a definite edge creeping into his voice, and I slide cautiously down the bed until I'm lying with my head on the pillows and my legs stretched out straight.

Hook pauses, and without meaning to I gasp when he lifts his shirt over his head. This is the first time I've seen the contraption that keeps his hook attached to his body, and I stare in fascination. It is not, as I had first suspected, a leather harness the buckles or clips around his chest, but instead it is just a leather cup that fits over the stump of his arm with a metal base riveted to the end that the hook would clip into. But the part the shocks me is that the cup appears to be attached to his arm with a series of metal rods that have been stabbed through his arm, anchoring it to his body by using Hook's own flesh.

Ignoring my fascination, or simply unaware of it, Hook continues speaking. "Next, I need to request that you not fight me, Maggie. You did agree to this, after all. If you do resist, I'm afraid we will have to begin this whole process over again." He lets his shirt pool on the ground, and then reaches over to unclip the deadly hook capping the end of his right arm, pulling it out gently and laying it on the chest at the foot of the bed.

Finally Hook turns back to face me, and I find myself staring avidly at the tanned make chest currently on display. Realizing what I'm doing I turn away with a blush, but not before I see Hook smirk in recognition of my staring. The next thing I feel is him kneeling on the bed beside me, sliding his leg over both of mine and pressing his hand and stump into the pillows on either side of my head, and I look up nervously to find his gaze locked with mine.

I feel my chest tighten, and I push myself further back into the pillows and the mattress in a futile attempt to prolong the inevitable. When that doesn't work I go with my default, and simply close my eyes and wait.

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Hook leans in towards Maggie's face, drinking in her soft pale skin and full lips, the way her lashes cast spiky shadows across her cheeks, the way her breathing speeds up when he gets close enough for his breath to fan her face.

Suddenly Hook breaks out in a cold sweat when he feels something stir deep in his chest, the beast that wants to tear and maim, and can almost sense that his eyes are turning that cursed blood-red hue. He squeezes his eyes shut with a grimace and forces the violence back with a tremendous effort, only relaxing when he can no longer feel its presence.

Leaving his eyes closed for a moment, Hook questions what he's doing for the millionth time. Should he be even attempting something like this after what happened last night? His heart seizes up at the thought of anything happening to Maggie, and knows instinctively that if he hurts her again he will not rest until he finds a way to end his life permanently and save her from any future pain.

He opens his eyes to see Maggie's face once more, but something has changed. How could he have never noticed the little wrinkle that appears on her forehead when she squeezes her eyes shut? Or the adorable sprinkling of freckles that is spread over the bridge of her nose and her cheeks? Or the stray lock of hair that never seems to stay in the hair tie that holds Maggie's hair back and often drifts across her face to rest on her forehead? He feels a sudden rush of some powerful emotion, one that makes him hot and cold and sends shivers down the length of his spine. Hook's eyes shoot open as he realizes what the emotion is.

Stiffening, Hook pushes himself away from the bed and tumbles to the floor, jumping to his feet and backing away from Maggie as she opens her eyes. What is wrong with him? Of course he finds her attractive, and sure he wishes to take her to bed, but those feelings would not account for these tender thoughts! Is he beginning to fall in...? He gives himself a mental shake. No. Nothing can make him fall in love again, not for anything in the world. Still, as he stands there staring at Maggie's confused expression, he wonders whether there may be something beyond this world that can tempt him.

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I sit up in surprise, seeing Hook's shocked expression and knowing mine probably doesn't look much better. Why had he backed away?_ I'm **not** disappointed_, I tell myself. I scoot myself back against the bed and pull my knees to my chest once more, continuing to stare at Hook with wide eyes. My heart is still pounding from his nearness but I manage to get my breathing under control, at least.

Hook lets out a long-suffering sigh, gripping the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger and closing his eyes. Before I can even think to ask what had happened, however, he turns and walks out of the room, leaving me silent on the bed with my mouth hanging wide open. The lock clicking in the door shakes me out of my stupor, and I close my mouth and grimace.

"What the hell was that?" I say aloud, thoroughly confused, and fall against the headboard with a sigh. I close my eyes and lean my head back, shaking my head. _Men,_ I think. _They never make any sense._

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**Hello my readers!**

I have to say I am very sad. I haven't gotten any reviews for chapter nine, and I do so like hearing your input... please review, it helps me be motivated to write faster! thank you for following my story this far, and I hope you are liking it!


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